


drag you down, use you up

by transkylo (captainandor)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Believe it or not this is actually consensual though you might need to squint a little, Collars, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Emperor Hux, Hux is a horrible horrible man, Kylo Ren the attack dog, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Slight murder kink ?, Unhealthy Relationships, but Ren is a murderer so don't feel bad for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-05-14 00:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5721997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainandor/pseuds/transkylo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It seems fitting, does it not?” Hux asks, makes sure to catch Kylo’s eye when he looks around, and holds his gaze steadily, “That if we are to rule together-” Kylo blinks as Hux continues, “-that we rule from here,” </p><p>“Together,” Kylo repeats, slowly, as if testing how the word feels, how it sounds. </p><p>“I want you at my side,”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of me listening to nine inch nails lmao. 
> 
> Please do heed the tags, this isn't _pure_ filth but there's a lot more sin than I usually allow myself to write in here. If dubious ethics and extremely unhealthy relationships aren't your thing, this probably isn't the fic for you.

They meet on the bridge of the Finalizer when Hux is still a General and Kylo Ren is scarcely more to him than a myth – the boy who drove Luke Skywalker into hiding, the Jedi killer, the man who stops at nothing – who kills without thinking. This figure of legend, standing in front of him now, in the flesh, on a ship they’ve been given joint command of. 

Hux looks at him under the harsh, artificial light – looks at this hooded would-be Sith Lord – and sees opportunity. He forces a polite smile, even as he salutes this man who is not quite his superior, not quite his equal. Ren simply inclines his head, mask betraying nothing of his emotions beneath. 

Hux will learn to read him later. Every little tension in his shoulders, the slightest clench of his knuckles, the tell-tale shift in the air – in the Force – when Ren is angry. Will learn to interpret the harsh, raucous voice that comes filtered through metal. Will, in time, hear the unfiltered soft spoken voice of the man behind.

Until then, he will simply observe. 

Hux is a patient man. He knows the value of time, knows how important it is that nothing is rushed. True beauty – true perfection – does not come overnight. So he bides his time, never more than a few steps behind, watching and waiting and gently beginning to put his plans into action. Kylo Ren is rough edged and unfinished, his master – Snoke – is old and decrepit. His teachings are useless; wasted on Kylo, but Hux knows potential when he sees it. 

He has a tracker fitted on Kylo’s belt, the software on his personal tablet; map coordinates and vital stats freely available to him, as well as an additional microphone, because Kylo has an infuriating habit of disabling the one in his helmet. 

It’s never mentioned, but Hux isn’t stupid. Kylo knows it’s there; uses it as a means of riling the other man when he’s on missions. Knows Hux can’t say anything without admitting to it. It’s a precautionary measure – he’s not ashamed of it, but it’s also personal. Protecting his private interests, and not strictly allowed, but Hux is in charge and what’s the point if you can’t even bend your own rules from time to time? 

They stand; shoulder to shoulder and Hux feels the impossible heat radiating from Kylo’s body, mere centimetres between them, and thinks about how this will feel when he succeeds. When the universe will be forced to kneel at their feet. 

_(Kylo’s gloved hands, covered in blood and his eyes dark, feral, monstrous.)_

Kylo Ren is volatile. Of this, Hux is fully aware. He inspects the equipment damages; reads repair bills in their hundreds and overhears the carnage himself on the odd occasion. He goes directly to the scene the first time, watches Ren’s shaking figure from behind, the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he struggles to calm his breathing. 

Hux reaches out his hand, and touches Kylo Ren’s arm. 

The air abruptly grows heavy, oppressive, and Hux finds himself rooted to the spot. He expects it, makes himself force down the rising sense of panic that generally comes when one finds oneself on the wrong side of the dark – and fixes Ren with the best authoritative look he can muster. 

“Calm down,” he manages to say. Ren’s fingers curl, the leather creaking slightly where it bunches between his knuckles, but Hux continues despite the increasing pressure on his windpipe, “With every tantrum you only serve to jeopardize our mission. The map could be lightyears away – we’ll never know if you keep butchering all of our equipment,” 

Ren turns, and Hux stares back at the mask, wondering, not for the first time since they met, what the other man’s eyes look like, beneath all the armour. (Did they look human? Or were they the vivid yellow of the Sith – like his grandfather before him?)

“I don’t take orders from you.” Is all he says, before the vice like grip on Hux’s body relents and Kylo pushes past him as he makes his exit. Hux lets the feeling return to his body and thinks – No. Not yet. Not with Snoke still around. 

Kylo goes to Jakku in search of the map and Hux watches in delight as Kylo kills without a second thought, gives the order to kill more without hesitation. He stops a blaster bolt in mid-air and holds it while his attention is diverted, letting it go only once he has decided that he has what he needs – the resistance pilot. 

Poe Dameron’s mind shatters under interrogation like a thousand tiny fragments of glass crushed in a palm. Hux watches the interrogation footage twice. 

Oh, the things he could do with that power. (The things he will do – when he has it under his control.) 

Hux is careful not to react when he sees Kylo Ren unmasked for the first time, though he lets his eyes linger on approach; commits the image to his memory. He looks so _young_ ; younger than Hux, even, and not at all what was expected, clean shaven and skin lightly dusted with freckles.

In the mere seconds it takes for him to react and turn away, Hux realises why Kylo wears the mask – his face is an open book. Every emotion is written clearly across his features, Hux sees surprise, panic, annoyance. This will be far, far easier than he thought it would be. 

(He notes; Kylo’s eyes are brown, and startlingly human.)

*** 

The timing is impeccable – in one sweep, Han Solo is dead, the resistance is weakened, and the destruction of Starkiller Base endows the First Order with a new sense of protection. The resistance will think that they have the upper hand. Their pride will be their ultimate downfall.

Starkiller Base explodes like an enormous firework below them as the shuttle docks with the Finalizer. Hux allows himself a moment to grieve the loss of what is, essentially, his entire life’s work, but he knows that it was a necessary course of action; looks at Kylo lying unconscious and bloody in the medbay and knows that this was necessary, too. 

Ren is weak, vulnerable – physically now as well as mentally, and Hux has no qualms about exploiting it to his own requirement. None at all. 

When Kylo wakes he’s furious. Hux isn’t surprised. No less than four Stormtroopers have been thrown angrily against the wall and one force choked before being dropped, gasping, to the ground, before Hux puts a firm hand on Kylo’s shoulder and says, “Enough.” Kylo’s chest heaves, but he drops his arm, and looks away. Hux allows the Stormtroopers time to regain their composure before ordering them to leave. 

“I failed,” Kylo says, forehead creasing with a deep frown. 

“Yes,” he says, simply, “But it’s no matter. What’s done is done.” He doesn’t say that he thinks Ren is an idiot; because he needed this failure for the second part of his plan to work. Needs Kylo exposed and raw and reeling. Frustrated. Not knowing who to turn to – except Hux. It was always going to work out like this, Hux would be there to offer the support, would be there to hook and reel Kylo in with practised ease. 

Kylo blinks slowly, and then his lip curls, “No matter –” he reaches, predictably, for his lightsaber, and finds it gone. Hux had the foresight enough to remove it from the vicinity shortly after their arrival. His hand clutches at thin air and he scowls, “Are you mocking me?” 

“Not at all,” Hux shrugs, “We’re destined for great things, you and I,” 

Another frown. “We?” 

Before Hux can answer, Kylo tenses as if realising something, and draws himself up to his full height, though it very obviously pains him to do so. “Snoke,” he says, abruptly, “Something’s happened.” 

In truth, Hux isn’t entirely sure himself. “We lost contact when Starkiller Base was compromised,” he answers, “I’ve been waiting orders but they’ve get to arrive.” 

Kylo frowns, his expression pensive, “You won’t be receiving any,” he says, at length, almost as if he can’t quite believe what he’s saying himself. Hux keeps his growing delight masked as professional curiosity. 

“Do you mean to say that –”

“I don’t know,” Kylo snaps, winces when the quick movement of his face tugs painfully against the healing wound. He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes, “Just – let me think.” He turns and paces to the end of the bay, slams a closed fist against the wall, loudly, once, and exhales. 

Hux opens his mouth to speak but is cut off midway by Kylo hissing, “Shut _up_!” 

“I didn’t say a word,” 

“You were about to,” Kylo snaps. Hux thinks he looks even worse when he’s scowling, with the scar. “I don’t know what’s happened,” he continues, pensively, “But it’s not good.”

*** 

They find the remains of an ancient Sith temple on an unnamed planet three systems away from where Starkiller Base had been. This is the last place Hux would have wanted to build, but they’re operating without the direction of the Supreme Leader, and there’s something in the way Kylo hesitates at the foot of the stone steps when he and a handful of Stormtroopers leave the shuttle for surveillance. Something in the way his breath had hitched, almost imperceptibly, as he sent back a short report of his findings via commlink; that seals Hux’s decision.

Kylo takes off his helmet when they enter, lets it roll from his fingers and land with a heavy thud on the ground by his feet. Hux watches him take a few steps and then pause, his eyes slipping shut. 

“There is power here,” he says, softly, almost as though he’s thinking aloud. 

Hux walks around him, footsteps echoing where they bounce off the vaulted stone roof high above. “Then this is the place,” he replies, stopping just a few feet away. Kylo turns his head and quietly observes for a moment. 

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, and Hux notes the way Kylo’s back tenses, knows to keep his distance. If Kylo perceives any threat – real or imagined – Hux would prefer to keep all of his limbs attached. He glances at the lightsaber on Kylo’s belt once, and then back up. 

Hux keeps his voice steady, light, “Why am I doing what?” 

His right hand twitches, ever so slightly. Kylo takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm himself, “This,” he gestures with his other hand, looking up and all around them, it’s dark, save for the stray beams of sunlight that shine through the cracks in the brickwork, showering Kylo with golden light that catches in his eyes, making him look far more beautiful than he ought to, with that ridiculous scar marring his face. “Here. You have no more respect for the Sith than you do the Jedi, so why would you make _this_ your base?” 

It's true that Hux had never bothered to mask his obvious disdain. The Force, and those who have the power to wield it, are nothing more to him than time wasters; holding onto pointless old traditions that hold no place in the First Order’s regime. Kylo Ren is no exception. He’s reckless and arrogant and his infamous temper has set them back more times than Hux can count on both hands. 

Despite this, and despite all of Snoke’s faults, it had been plain to see from day one what an effective enforcer Kylo could be, when the right buttons were pushed. 

“It seems fitting, does it not?” Hux asks; makes sure to catch Kylo’s eye when he looks around, and holds his gaze steadily, “That if we are to rule together-” Kylo blinks as Hux continues, “-that we rule from here,” 

“Together,” Kylo repeats, slowly, as if testing how the word feels, how it sounds. 

“I want you at my side,”

*** 

He lets Kylo oversee the renovation. Of course, he has strict rules on what they can and cannot do, which rooms they’re allowed to renovate or enter at all, even. He makes them leave the main chamber empty, overgrown and dark. Hux sees Kylo meditating sometimes and watches from the antechamber. It’s odd, seeing him so calm, without his mask on. Kylo surely knows he’s there every time. It feels like a privilege, somehow, to be allowed to witness this – a privilege even, that Hux is allowed to see Kylo’s face at all.

They renovate the rest of it into smaller equivalent of the main bridge on Starkiller Base. Outbuildings are erected around the grounds of the temple for the troops’ barracks – Ren won’t allow them to sleep inside the main structure. 

It’s ridiculous, and Hux would use the word _mawkish_ if he knew Ren wouldn’t have his head for doing so, but if it convinces Kylo to trust him, Hux will tolerate it. 

He needs Kylo's trust in him to be bulletproof.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren lifts his head, and what a sight he looks. On his knees, eyes unfocused, blood dripping from the corner of his lip and onto the floor. His nostrils flare, but he gives no answer. 
> 
> “You’re pathetic, Ren. Admit it, you’d be nowhere without me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how horrendously long this took me to update - life got in the way and I completely forgot all about it until I was looking through my fic folder and stumbled across the half finished draft for chapter 2. 
> 
> Please remember to heed the tags, which have been updated since last time.

The resistance is pushed back and weakened until they’re low enough a threat that Hux can get on with more important business. He watches Kylo slaughter their fighters, just as deadly with his mind as he is with his saber. It’s terrible and beautiful to watch. 

His next move is restoring the empire, crowning himself as its Emperor. Ren remains his right hand, and as a gift Hux gives him the entire use of the ruined Sith temple to do with as he pleases. The Galaxy watches the coronation with a mixture of joy, trepidation and pure terror. Kylo’s eyes are hungry as he watches the crown – a simple circlet made of gold – lowered onto Hux’s head. 

The resounding cheer from the crowd is deafening.

*** 

He could get used to this, Hux thinks, unable to hide his smirk at the sight of this – of Kylo Ren, commander of the Knights of Ren, a name to which lesser men would _tremble_ at the mention of – on his knees, cowed, head down.

“Look at me,” he orders. 

Kylo tilts his chin defiantly, pupils blown so wide that they very nearly obscure the colour of his irises. His mouth is set in a sneer. 

“You need to learn respect,” Hux says, looking down his nose purposefully at the other man, “I’m lenient with you, Ren. Far too lenient – I can’t keep letting you deliberately disobey orders and get away with it,”

Ren moves to stand, but Hux pushes him firmly back down with a gloved hand. “You are _not_ my superior –”

“As it happens,” Hux cuts in smoothly, “I am. I outrank you, Lord Ren,” 

Kylo spits on the floor by Hux’s feet. “Fuck your rank,” he snarls, “You only crawled your way up that ladder by lying and cheating. You weren’t even declared emperor by right, you took that crown by force.” 

Hux effortlessly backhands him across the cheek, and then the other for good measure, sneers even as Kylo drops his weight forward onto his hands and spits blood. He kneels and grabs a fistful of Kylo’s hair, wrenching his head up. 

“Your defiance is beginning to tire me,” he reprimands, “I do all of this for you and this is how you thank me? Humiliating me in front of my inferiors, acting like a spoilt child. I fought tooth and claw to get myself here and _you will not forget that_. I am not Snoke. I will not throw you unearned praise at the drop of a hat. You need to work for it,” he shoves Kylo’s head back down and stands, taking a moment to fix the sleeves of his coat. “Prove yourself worthwhile to the cause, and I will give you my favour. Fail me again, and I won’t let you off as easily,” 

“I could kill you.” Kylo says from beneath the dark curtain of his hair, and it’s far from the first time that he’s made that threat. Hux snorts. 

“Yet here I am,” Hux replies, cocking his head to the side, “Why would that be?” 

Ren lifts his head, and what a sight he looks. On his knees, eyes unfocused, blood dripping from the corner of his lip and onto the floor. His nostrils flare, but he gives no answer. 

“You’re pathetic, Ren. Admit it, you’d be nowhere without me.” He sweeps out of the room. 

In retaliation, Kylo takes a shuttle and ransacks the nearest three planets, leaving them burning in his wake. He returns with two resistance fighters and a droid, takes the fighters to the new interrogation chamber immediately. It’s less technical than the other one, near empty save for the interrogation chair. Kylo doesn’t need tools to get what he wants from hostages. The power of his mind alone is enough to take them apart. 

Their screams are the first thing that alerts Hux to Kylo’s presence in the temple. 

Hux keeps his distance for the rest of the evening, says not a word when a repair bill is handed to him by a lower ranking officer who won’t quite meet his eye as she does. Hux sets it aside and glances at his tablet, noting Kylo’s position on base, and promptly sets off to find him. 

He allows himself to linger for a moment in the doorway to watch Kylo training. It’s an impressive sight, he won’t lie. Kylo’s running over some basic kata, going through the motions swiftly, expertly. Every shift of his muscle is accentuated by a sheen of sweat which covers his skin. 

“You did exceptionally well today,” Hux calls out, noting the way Kylo pauses midway through swinging a punch. He holds the position for a moment, and then drags the hand back through his hair, pushing it away from his face, and glancing over. His expression is passive; eyes alert. Hux knows this look. He’s suspicious. 

“What do you want,” Kylo demands. Hux still isn’t quite used to seeing him out of his heavy robes, swathed from head to toe in darkness. He lets his gaze linger for a moment on Kylo’s back, over the muscles under his not-quite regulation training vest. Hux purses his lips. 

“To talk to my right hand, is that such a crime?” 

Kylo snorts. Hux realises that he missed this side of the knight; realises that he had forgotten just how sarcastic he can be at times (fun, even, when he’s not on his knees. Hux isn’t sure which one he prefers). He expects a sardonic remark, but Kylo surprises him by turning to the punch bag and throwing in a few hits before steadying it again. It’s a barely concealed threat. _Look what I can do,_ it says, _you’re only alive and standing in front of me because I want it that way._

“I’m busy,” is all he says, “Leave.”

*** 

“Ren,” Hux barks, holding down a button on the comm system. His gaze flickers to the screen at his right, displaying Kylo’s position on the map alongside the steady beat of his heart, a string of numbers indicating his body temperature, breathing rate, blood pressure. Hux will never admit to anybody – let alone Ren – just how often he checks these stats.

“Emperor,” comes the reply, dissonant voice crackling through the speakers, rendered almost unreadable through the static. Hux knows sarcasm when he hears it – Kylo never addresses him formally otherwise. 

“You’re straying off course,” Hux snaps as he glances at another screen. Three and a half miles off course, to be exact – but the Knight won’t appreciate the information. He surely already knows. A crackled hiss of air comes through the speaker in reply, and Hux can’t tell whether it’s a huff of amusement or annoyance.

“I know what I’m doing.” 

“What you’re doing,” Hux snaps into the microphone, irritated, and horribly aware that the room has fallen quiet, everyone listening with curiosity and bated breath, “Is disobeying direct orders from your superior,” 

Ren ignores this, and Hux doesn’t hear another word until he comes striding into the command centre, his robes swishing out behind him. Hux can practically feel his self-satisfied smirk from behind the mask. He’s proud of himself – takes joy in seeing how far he can push before Hux pushes back. 

Hux takes immense pleasure when it’s his turn to retaliate. 

It’s been a week since Ren’s planetside incident, and Hux has been steadily ignoring him ever since, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before Kylo grows bored and impatient with the lack of attention and lashes out. Naturally, it’s one of the Stormtroopers that takes the brunt of his temper. 

When Phasma comes by to inform Hux that there’s been an emergency, he only smiles and reaches for his coat. “Take me to Ren,” he says. He’s been planning this.

*** 

“What are you – _doing_?!” Kylo screeches, claws at his neck with blunt nails, leaving red welts on the otherwise unmarred skin, “Get this off!”

Hux is trying not to laugh even as he smacks Kylo across the cheek with an open palm, “Calm down,” he says, tightening the buckle in warning and watching as Kylo’s shoulders shake with barely pent up rage. Hux loosens it by a few notches, and fastens it closed. 

“There,” he says, “See? Not so bad.” He takes Kylo’s chin in hand and directs it towards the mirror. Kylo stares back at his reflection, face twisting into a scowl. Hux sees himself staring back, eyes dark, cheeks flushed red above the collar of his greatcoat. “Hopefully this’ll remind you who you belong to. You’re mine, Ren, and I won’t have you acting like an immature child.” 

Kylo snarls at him, like a beast. Hux thinks it’s particularly fitting, given the situation.

“If only they could all see you like this,” he continues, with a smirk, delighting in the way Kylo jerks, “The mighty Lord Ren – cowed in obeisance,”

He should have anticipated Kylo’s subsequent move, but somehow doesn’t; the next thing he knows is that his back is curved painfully over the edge of his desk and Kylo is looming over him, bare hand against his throat, squeezing. 

“What is it that I always say?” he muses, thoughtful, composed – a counterpoint to his aggressive stance, “I could kill you right now. It would be so _easy_ ,” the pressure on Hux’s windpipe increases, black spots dancing around the corners of his vision. It’s the first time Kylo’s taken this threat any further than empty words. He’s so close, Hux can feel the raw power radiating from his form, making his skin nearly burn to the touch. 

Ren feels like he’s everywhere, all at once. In Hux’s head, under his skin. 

“But – ah – but you won’t,” he struggles to reply. The hand tightens, and Hux groans out a curse, eyes rolling back in his head. So this is how he’s going to die, he thinks – Emperor Hux, commander of the First Order, ruthless military leader, strangled to death by his own damn attack dog. 

Ren seems amused. His lip quirks, and his grip loosens ever so slightly, “A dog,” he says, deadpan, “Really,” 

Hux kicks at him, weakly, and finally – _finally_ – the weight on his oesophagus relents, Hux feels the blood rushing back into his head as Ren pulls away. He coughs and rubs at his throat as he struggles to sit up. Mentally thanks the high collar of his uniform for being able to cover what will surely be bruised by the morning. 

Kylo is looking at his reflection again, toying with the O-ring that hangs from the front of the collar. 

“If you act like a damn dog,” Hux says hoarsely, inhaling deeply to fill his starved lungs, “Then that’s how I’ll treat you.” 

“And what are you,” Kylo asks, voice low, suggestive as he stares back at Hux via the mirror’s polished surface. He looks remarkably composed, considering. “My master?” 

Hux’s datapad chimes twice from his pocket. He takes that as his cue to leave, quickly and without bothering to deign Ren with a reply. Not that he would be able to form a coherent one, anyway.

*** 

The first assassination attempt happens on the anniversary of Hux’s coronation. Kylo stops a blaster bolt in mid-air, not a metre away from hitting Hux in the centre of his forehead. Complete silence, then the crowds panic.

Ren’s eyes are scanning the crowd frantically, sourcing out the would-be assassin. His dominant hand rests on the hilt of his lightsabre, fingers twitching with pent up energy. 

“Get him back to the palace.” Kylo commands the Stormtroopers flanking Hux. 

“Ren –” Hux starts, but something in Kylo’s expression when he turns shuts him up. He nods stiffly and lets the troopers escort him back to the speeder that they arrived in. Pausing, he calls over his shoulder to the knight, “Don’t get yourself killed.” 

(It’s the closest thing to ‘come home to me’ he’ll ever say.)

Ren does. It’s late into the night when he returns, throwing the doors to Hux’s rooms wide open with one hand. Hux stands from where he’s been sitting agitatedly at his desk since he was able to excuse himself to his private chambers, hours previously. His heart is thumping behind his sternum. 

“Ren.” 

He steps into the room, silhouette broad and intimidating against the lamplight from the hallway. His shoulders are heaving as he breathes, and as Hux’s eyes focus in the glare he sees the state that his Knight has returned to him in. Kylo is covered in blood. From his forehead all the way down to the tails of his robe, he’s saturated. The stench makes Hux’s stomach recoil. 

Moving closer, Kylo stretches out his arm and drops something on the floor by Hux’s feet. 

He looks down to see a decapitated head. 

Shifting an appraising look towards Ren, who drops dutifully to his knees, he asks, “Did he suffer?”

“Yes.” 

Hux steps around the head, uses the tip of his finger to tilt Kylo’s face up towards him. His eyes are bloodshot and feral even still, his breathing ragged. Hux wants to take him apart. 

“Yes,” Kylo says again, this time in response to the unwittingly projected thought, voice cracking. His gaze flickers up to meet Hux’s, steadies itself. Hux watches his pupils dialate. 

“You did this, all for me,” it isn’t a question. Hux trails his fingers lower, ghosting the touch along Kylo’s jaw, down his neck, dipping below the cowl of his tunic. He feels cool leather and metal beneath his fingertips. 

Kylo says once more, “Yes.” 

The metal clinks deliciously as Hux hooks his index finger in the O-ring, using it as a point of leverage to guide Kylo back onto his feet and pull him close. “You’re filthy.” He mutters, letting his eyes wander over the planes of Kylo’s face from this new angle. He reaches out a thumb to swipe it across the arch of a cheekbone, watching as it comes away sticky with congealed blood. 

“So what are you going to do about that?” Kylo leans in so that their noses are barely brushing. He looks predatory, pupils glinting in the low light. 

Hux drops his hands to Kylo’s belt, deftly undoing the clasp on the front and letting the heavy piece of leather fall to the floor. “What am I going to do about it?” he repeats, roughly pulling at the tattered cape that Ren still wears around his shoulders, tossing it away carelessly. “What am I going to do about it, indeed,” 

“Hux,” Ren closes his eyes, seemingly trying to restrain himself. 

A thrill runs down his spine. He had considered this, in the beginning. Feels as though every day he’s spent with Ren at his side has been building up to something like it. 

“If you ruin my dress whites with that filth,” Hux says, slowly, causing Ren’s eyes to slide back open, curiously, “I’ll have your head, too.” 

Ren’s smirk is positively lethal.

*** 

“This is a good look on you,” Hux says, leaning on the palm of his hand, watching. Kylo is stretched out on his stomach, the bedsheets pooled low on the small of his back. Hux refrains from reaching out and tracing a path down his spine, instead remains perfectly still. It won’t do to allow this arrangement to become anything close to tender. He won’t allow it.

Kylo shifts, peers at him from behind his hair with sleepy eyes. It’s still night, the candles have all burned out and the lamps have been snuffed, the only source of light coming from the moon via the open balcony doors. 

“What is?” 

Hux allows himself to touch the collar, revelling in the feel of it under his fingers, the way that Kylo’s muscles tense and the stilted exhale that catches in his throat. “This. Seeing who you belong to.” 

“The whole galaxy knows,” Kylo says in reply, sitting up and turning away. Hux watches him gather his clothes and leave without another word.

*** 

He runs a hand through Kylo’s hair, lets his fingers drag down across the skin of his neck and catch on the soft leather there, hidden by the fabric of his tunic. Kylo shudders; a chill creeping down his spine and settling somewhere deep inside his bones. Hux suppresses a smirk as he leans over and lets his lips brush lightly against Kylo’s ear as he gives the command.

“Attack,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't exactly how I wanted this to play out so you might see some spinoff fics appearing as part of a series some time in the near future, set either after this or filling in some gaps in the middle. We'll see.

**Author's Note:**

> talk star wars to me @translkylo on tumblr


End file.
